Life's Strange Roads
by Zealak Silverdirk
Summary: Known as a strange beast in her tribe, Zealak, a black squirrel is sentenced to slavery to the enemy. She realizes that escape is her only option, and she cannot do it alone. When things take a turn for the worse, she must run to stay alive, or perish.
1. Tragedy of a Squirrelmaid

_**Life's Strange Roads**_

_A story of betrayal, heartache, losing and finding yourself, living with what you've got and trusting where the road takes you._

* * *

**_D_**ropping to a lower bow, the squirrelmaid pawed her dirk handle pensively, listening as pawsteps sounded on the floor of vegetation below. They were coming, even the youngest squirrel of the tribe could hear them.

Zealak Silverdirk's eyes flashed snidely at the shapes moving below. The black squirrel would soon drop from the trees like the others and scatter the ambush formation. It was almost time.

The signal of a wood-pigeon call sounded, and soft thumps soon indicated that the hunted were now the hunters.

Screams and curses filled the air as the squirrel-tribe located the intruders. Zealak showed no quarter as she hacked and stabbed her way through the enemy. Spotting the dim figure of a ferret, she threw her dirk like a spear, which landed into the creature's back. No sound came from his lips as he fell, and the black squirrel rounded on an attacker with her reddened blade.

By the time the moon began to set, the vermin were well away from the camp.

The squirrels assembled by an ornate chair carved right into the trunk of a gigantic oak tree. There were two hundred of the fighting squirrels in all, counting the elderbeasts when they were in their prime. A middle-aged, pot-bellied, graying squirrel occpuied the seat, staring at his army of able bodied creatures.

At a nod from the squirrelking, a younger male stepped beside the throne and spoke aloud over the sounds of the night. "As I'm sure you all know, the vermin have been vanquished. They have now discovered that we're a force to be reckoned with."

Cheers and hoots followed this remark. The fat king coughed angrily and the fighters quickly settled.

"Very few injuries occurred during this stealth attack. Luckily, nobeast was fatally hurt and none were taken captive." More cheering. "Without our great king's guidance and the army's quick wit, we would have been all slain."

Near the back of the croud, Zealak snorted at the last comment. The king was as dumb as the wood he sat upon, and the army could barely operate without severe threatenings and lashings, acccompanied by training expeditions that lasted for two days about the simpliest manuevers.

Now most would find that with any army, training was necessary, but this was a hopeless bunch. In the days of old, far better plans were thought out, sieges and raids were prepared for. The only thing keeping the squirrels from their own destruction was their constant discipline.

* * *

Zealak Silverdirk was one of a kind. From her black fur to her ice-blue eyes, her physical appearance was not a welcoming one. Her attitude was far less inviting. Rebellious to her commander's orders, she was lashed many times for her insubordination; most uncommon in any soldier of the High King Ashscruff. She challenged the wit and authority of anybeast, and was a social outcast from everybest in the tribe.

She had heard many names for herself. From "Insane Brushtail" to "Stupid She-Squirrel". But Zealak hardly ever noticed what they called her and who said it. She only reacted when her intellegence or her strength was directly challenged.

She wasn't one to be taken lightly, as when she did talk, it was not just to hear the sound of her voice. She had plenty of time by herself, but although it was unbenounced to every squirrel, she did have a friend.

He was only a hermit vole named Brutty. She went to visit him as the sun began to set, and nobest was the wiser on where she disappeared to. He was old, but full of wisdom. He could uplift her dampened spirits with as little as a smile. Zealak spent a lot of her time with him, and, since he lived on the other side of the island, most creatures would not see her until noon.

But one day, something had gone terribly wrong. She went to his small dwelling as the sun went down, like she always did. The black squirrel would give five taps- two at once with a three second pause inbetween and the last very softly, to denounce that this was her and not any old creature. But, when the door did not open after a full minute, Zealak began to get suspicious.

Even though Brutty was old, he could still get up to the door. She pounded for a short time upon the oak wood. Seeing that he was not going to answer, she slid her thin blade through a crack on the side of the wood. Lifting it slightly, she heard the small lock pop open, and she nudged the door open with her scared paw.

The scene before her was undisturbed. Nothing was out of place. There was no sound whatsoever. Nothing creaked and she did not hear the kettle of tea her old friend always had boiling. Approaching a back room, probably his bedchamber, the squirrel opened the door slowly and loudly. Nothing happened. She saw the old vole in his bed. But his plump stomach did not rise and fall like that of a creature during sleep.

It hit her hard; like a bolt of chain lightning had found it's way underground and struck her. Brutty was dead. She felt no emotions, only drained of energy. Her only friend was gone, though it gave her some comfort that he only died in his sleep.

She lifted him from his bed and craddled him in her arms, like a mother with a small babe. She carried him outside and placed him down on the grass by his small garden of flowers. Everything was blooming and beautiful.The flowers ranged from pale cream to deepest red. Peonies to wild roses. Taking up a small shovel and setting aside a piece of stone, Zealak began to dig.

When the job was done, she took the stone and inscribed upon it; "Brutty. A great friend and a wise vole. He will be sorely missed by me". Most would assume that "me" would mean that he had a wife, but Zealak would always know that she was the writer. It was a painful memory for her; Brutty had always been kind to her and taught her many things, like how to read and write, and how to navigate while using the stars.

Every few days now she would wander back to his gravestone and tend to the flowers he loved so much. Zealak Silverdirk did not know much about plants and taking care of them, but she began to learn as she went along. If any creature ever wandered as far over the island as the female squirrel did, sometimes, they might hear her muffled sobs, portraying her grief and broken heart the stars. Her only friend, now lost to her.

But, strangely, she did have a friend. She would probably never know that she might have had a friend on the island if she had just opened up and been kinder, but she would only realize this later. So much later that it wouldn't even matter.

_To be continued..._

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Yes, I did start another story (shame on me for not continuing others yet), hoping to see if anybody would be interested in reviewing it. This was actually based on a really thin version I had made less than a year ago. Zealak, is kind of based on me, but only in some ways (since I live in a democracy, not a monarchy, and I am OBVIOUSLY not a squirrel).

What's that? It's lame to write a story where you are the main character in the form of a creature? Well, that's where you're wrong! Animals are so much easier to write about (don't ask me why, they just are), and they can fit better into their character roles. Plus, it's pretty cool to imagine a sword weilding creature, eh?

Well, I hope you'll all consider reviewing when you are finished. I need helpful hints and compliments (Did I just rhyme unintentionally? Uh, I hate that!), so don't be afraid to voice your NONFLAMING (stress on the "NON") opionions through a review.

Wow, that was long. Oops! I think I spoke to myself a little bit too much there. Oh well...

Zealak Silverdirk


	2. How Can I Go On?

_**How Can I Go On?**_

Zealak stayed by Brutty's resting place for over a week. Squirrels back at camp became suspicious. The king suggested desertion; naturally, his servants agreed. Others laughed and said she had finally gone full-blown beserk, or she had gone and got herself killed. Not even close.

Mourning is a process that time does not qualify for. Time has no meaning in sadness. You care of nothing else except the emptiness inside you, and it's all that you can feel. Nothing has meaning and everything about your before life is like it never happened. You can barely manage to keep going.

_Sadness washes everything,_

_Everything but the pain._

_The pain of loss is deafening,_

_You feel cheer will ne'er come again._

_Friends and family bring joy,_

_But without it there is nothing._

_It seems just a ploy,_

_Without happiness is nothing worth it._

Brutty was like a father to her. Although he was obviously not biological (Zealak couldn't even remember her father), he understood her and cheered her no end. The squirrelmaid, after hours heaped upon hours without a second of shut eye finally decided to head back. She didn't want to, but she felt it was the only thing she could do anymore.

* * *

Entering past two oak bows that interlaced over her head, Zealak returned to the tribe. She watched surprised glances from some of the others. It was obvious that they thought she would not come back. She was surprised herself. In any other circumstance, she would have probably hopped aboard a vessel and sailed to the distant land of Mossflower. Now that was country that beckoned to her. Many of her lonely hours of night watch (she being the only one wanting them and the only one to stay awake for the entire time) were spent thinking of what it would be like if she severed all her roots from this cursed island and sailed there.

The only possible way though, was to steal a corsair's vessel, anchored on the other side of the island (it was a very large piece of land luckily). There was a tavern down there just above the shoreline, backed by the verdance that she so knew as her home. It would be a lot easier than one would think, or even guess. It was an easy equation. Bloodthirsty corsairs who loved to tip into the grog at any possible moment, and a tavern no more than a short sprint away from their prized ships.

The short sprint could become a long maze of snarring vegetation and loose sand to a druken beast, at least, Zealak had heard it that way. Hopefully it was true. If it was, she would have a very high chance of gaining a well-stocked vessel and a seaworthy companion. With it, Mossflower, leagues of ocean water and endless horizons away, would become a reality.

But, how could she? If she left, she might never find her way back to Brutty, her beloved vole friend. 'I guess something important has to be lost to obtain a dream,' the black squirrel thought to herself philosophically. It was true though. Nothing worth-while would ever be accomplished if you would not give up something you thought was important.

Sitting herself down on a protruding tree root, Zealak closed her eyes and leaned her head against the aging bark of the oak. It was the farthest away she could get from every creature without leaving the camp. She hoped her position would warn others away, but, naturally, this just intrigued Ruual all the more.

Ruual was an ordinary male squirrel. From his thick red tailbrush to his deep green coloured eyes, he was nothing special. He was nothing like Zealak (not that any of the creatures of the tribe could be), except for the matter of spieces. But that was it. He liked company, she hated it. He like being company, she hated it all the more. No matter what she did, yelled, snarled, thrown her blade at him- once she had even bitten him- he wouldn't go away. This made her nervous. She was definitely never social, so it was aggravating.

"What do you want?" she gritted, inching her eyes open and keeping them invisible slits. Hostility and suspicion usually scared off any creature brave enough to venture near. It was especially fun to scare the King Ashscruff's high servant, Vontyr. He was always a nervous wreck. It made her laugh (an odd occurance, no doubt) every time he would scramble away after giving out the King's message.

"Oh nothin'. Sittin' ain't agin the law of the tribe," Ruual replied back, casual as ever.

"Well, around me that's a personal violation. Punishable by any means necessary." Just because she was hostile didn't mean she spoke rudely, it made it all the more fun.

"Is it now?" he scoffed. "Well, that's too bad, seein' as I ain't about to move anywheres."

"Suit yourself, lardbrush. If you aggravate me don't go cryin' to your mommy when your tail's stuck through your ears." Zealak was getting angry. Her voice was growing tuate and thin, an explosion of vicious wrath might be soon in approaching.

Ruual poked her footpaw teasingly. The black squirrel instantly shied away then rebounded with a kick to Ruual's elbow. He dodged and snickered like a babe. She could see that he wanted to start a fight, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. Zealak dropped her foot down on the root and watched lazily as the red squirrel tried as hard as he might to get another reaction. His attempts were failing miserably, but he wasn't discouraged; there were other ways of which he knew.

He stood up and began to walk away. "Huh, I knew that female squirrels were afraid of being beaten, but you're the worst, Silverdirk. Won't even lift a paw to fight. Shows what you know about offense."

That did it. Without a sound she leapt into the air and hoped to catch him a swift kick in the back. No such luck. He heard the wind whistling and faced forward, thinking to block a punch. But, a full foot and head collision ensued. Zealak's footpaw made contact with a crack as it came down full force onto Ruual's face. He dropped like a log. This actually lessened the intensity of the blow, but it was still lethal.

"Shows what you know about anything, Ruual," Zealak folded her arms and stood sneering over her defeated opponent.

"Okay, okay, you win. Just don't kill me," he waved his paws back and forth in surrender, blood dripping from his nose and a broken tooth. He wiped it off on the back of a paw and held it out. "Help me up."

The black squirrel rolled her eyes. He had offered surrender, she had no other grudge to hold. Taking the proffered paw in what she hoped was a vicelike grip, the squirrelmaid hoisted him up with such strength that he would have gone flying had he not been so heavy.

"Nice fightin'," Drengul called over. He had been watching, which wasn't that much of a deal. He would watch any fight. From fish in a stream fighting for food to a pair of druken corsairs (if he ever had the guts to go near one). It was all the same to him. A loser to laugh at.

"'e's right," a squirelmaid named Frunnel piped up from beside him.

"Whatever," Zealak shrugged. "It was too easy." She glanced at Ruual, hoping for a sour reaction. But he was as mad as he was able to fly. Not a bit. This made Zealak angry, and she frowned, which cracked him up no end.

Stalking off, the black squirrel grumbled about uninvited crowds and lunatics who couldn't feel contented if they didn't get beat up every now and then.

Sometimes, you couldn't win like you wanted to, as it would later prove, time and time again.

_To be continued..._

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Apparently, I've got it to load up finally. It took forever just to get the stinkin' document on here. Oh well, I'm good for it now, so I hope I'll get some readers and at least two reviews from people (if I begged I would ask for the same amount in chapter one). Thanks anyway for reading chapter two, I hope it was interesting.

If you would like to read/review any of my other stories, look for "Imaldu", "Otter Quest", and for you GoG'H fans, "Twilight's Chants" and "The Pact".

Anyways, good night, and drive safely.

Zealak Silverdirk


	3. Enemies Through the Underbrush

_**Enemies Through the Underbrush**_

**R**uual's jaw was not harmed too badly in the fight, though he gained a nasty infection from his broken tooth that left him spitting out the taste of the healer's tonic for days. Zealak smirked at him if he ever walked by, and he returned the gesture with a wave. Any of the squirrel-tribe watching at these times would be clearly mistified. Ruual thought they were friends, Zealak considered him a friendly enemy.

Zealak watched Ruual pass, and, instead of a smirk, she squinted. It was obviously something Ruual did not expect, for he turned his head from side to side, seemingly looking for some other creature. As the black squirrelmaid began to turn her head away, almost as a mark of dismissal, Ruual's face creased into a deep frown of worry.

"Zealak, there's big news in the courthouse," he whispered. Ruual was sneaky and mischievious, and Zealak did not put it past him to eavesdrop on matters and affairs of the tribe's secret council.

"What now? More idiots like you getting their tails caught in trees?" she shot back.

Ruual winced. Such a remark was completely uncalled for, especially from your friend. But, he brushed it away. "Not even. They were talking about the attack on the enemy, and the latest message they sent by arrow. It said that they wanted slaves to build up their island fortress, and if they did not start handing over creatures, we'd all be killed."

"So?" Such matters did not lie heavily on Zealak's mind.

"They said you're first."

The squirrelmaid's eyebrows flew up in surprise. How could they give in so easily? She knew they were spineless, but giving into the demands of the enemy before the battle had barely started? Just in hopes that they would be overlooked afterward? Such ideas could only come from the fat king himself. No creature other than he could be that dumb.

What do you expect me to do now?" Zealak growled.

"I don't know. Run?" Ruual shrugged. He was clearly unhappy about the situation, but what could he, a mere ordinary squirrel, do to help? Either way, he could do nothing.

"Are you kidding me?! Have your brains fallen out? I've never run away from anything in my life!" Zealak was outraged. Ruual's suggestion was like telling a whale to sprout wings and do a barrel role in the sky. Impossible.

"Well, maybe you should start!" Whether Ruual meant to use such a tone was questionable. "You, of all creatures, should know when to back down!"

Zealak was shocked, stung and startled at this flash of anger and aggresion in Ruual. He had never been known to even raise his voice to another creature, and now he was actually angry? Apparently things were and never could be what they seemed. She hoped that this might be the last of such outbursts from the red squirrel, but such things can not be destroyed by the hopes of another creature.

* * *

Skarlick returned to his leader with the message. It was good for the whole troop, and especially good for him. Every creature of Vermin Vale- as many creatures called it- knew that pleasing messages given to the Forest Ruler, would earn them an extra ration of grog. 

No one actually knew why their leader was called the Forest Ruler, in fact, most just assumed he called himself that because he had no real name and he wanted this land.

The Forest Ruler's story is a fairly long one, but it could be made brief. Years ago, he was cast out of his tribe, and, after years of wandering through the forest, he finally went insane. He was taken in by the Abbey of Redwall, in Mossflower country where he originally came from. Eventually, he was nursed back to health and in return he nearly killed the Infirmary Keeper. Escaping was easy for him, and he eventually travelled to the coast, where corsairs accepted him, and soon marooned him along with thirty of the treacherous crew.

All these thoughts cascaded through his mind as Skarlick slunk to his master's tent. He was beckoned to enter by one of the weasel guards. Nervously, he licked his dry lips as he faced, or should have, the Forest Ruler. A misty linen cloth separated Skarlick from the Forest Ruler. He could not see through it, and he doubted that the Forest Ruler could either.

"What do you have to report to me, Skarlick?" he growled in the thin voice of a stoat. "Hopefully good news?"

"Yes, Forest Ruler. The squirrels have agreed to send in slaves to help build up your fortress," Skarlick replied, as his voice began to gain confidence. Not every vermin of the troops had to grovel to their leader.

"What did they want in return?" the Forest Ruler asked. It was always expected that other creatures would like something in return. It was, after all, only sensible.

"That you avoid their land."

"Let me tell you something, Skarlick. Although I seem at tinmes to be completely out of my senses, but, I am actually quite sane. Those squirrels on the other paw, aren't. Do they honestly think that we would overlook their lush lands so rich in fish filled rivers and fruit bearing trees? I, Vallreck of Minesoll, will not overlook their land."

With nary a sweep of his clawed paw, two guards drew back the veil, and Skarlick faced his master. The Forest Ruler, or Vallreck, was of strong build. Muscles added an extra sheen to his silver-gray fur. He was only a few inches taller than any normal stoat, but his physique could have decieved any creature. His arms were crossed on his chest, a fiendish smile on his smart features.

"Do you know what this means, Skarlick?" he asked, obviously in was a retorical question. "If we attacked soon after a shipment of slaves is sent over, we could take them completely by surprise."

"Why not just attack them right now, before they expect anything, sire?"

"I have already thought about that. They will probably send over a few of their more knowledgeable trackers, which are the swiftest creatures they have in their little settlement. We should have forces already moving out in a wide berth of their path, we do not want them finding out our plans. If we attacked quickly and right when some of their best creatures were over here, we could gain even more slaves."

"I still don't think I understand, Forest Ruler," Skarlick replied nervously.

The stoat was patient. He knew the knowledge boundaries his horde possessed, and explained everything in their stride. It wouldn't pay for them to misinterpret his commands. That was indeed, how most leaders suffered their worst loses. "If they do not have as many of their strongest squirrels there, then their defence would be even less. Does that not make sense?"

Skarlick's face brightened. "It does indeed, sire. So, if we come as they leave, then we can gain the upper-paw if we attack while others are over here?"

"Indeed, my good hordebeast. Ask my top lieutanant to give you an extra ration of grog when the rations are given out." With a flick of his head, the Forest ruler dismissed Skarlick, who licked his lips and rubbed his paws together at the prospect of an extra pint of the strong drink. Could his life as a hordebeast get any better?

* * *

Ruual made Zealak run through the plan once more, just so he could be sure. "So, remind me again what's going to happen?" 

"I will leave, probably to the coastal tavern, when night falls. You, will, a good while later, call the escape and point them in the wrong direction. Don't tell them you're in on it too, they will do anything to get the truth from you if they think you were involved. When they send out a search-party, you will join in, then break off and head in the direction of the beach. You'll meet me behind the tavern at high noon. Then, we'll climb aboard the first vessel we meet and sail away. That clear?"

"Perfectly. Hopefully they won't find anything out," Ruual replied.

Vontyr bounded away shortly after Zealak had mentioned Ruual's break-off from the search party. He had heard clearly what was spoken and intended the counsil to hear everything.

Finally, he could prove himself as a loyal servant of the king. Ashscruff would one day be too old and feeble to make any kind of decision, and Vontyr would take the throne.

It was true. Revenge was cold and sweet.

* * *

_Finally, chapter three. That's a bit of a milestone if I say so myself. I trust that you'll write a little review._

_I hope I can get as many reviews as my previous chapters recieved, for your suggestions and questions are greatly appreciated._

_Zealak Silverdirk_


	4. Escaping Death

_**Escaping Death**_

_Z_ealak and Ruual finally had fixed a time on their escape. That very evening. It would be easy for the squirrelmaid to camouflage into the shadows of the forest, and Ruual would be following near dawn. Now, all that the two relied on was a constant stream of anxiety and a few sips of stolen wine. Of course the sly the squirrel would always have something somewhere, pilfered from an unsuspecting creature.

"How much longer do you think we should wait for?" Ruual asked, they had met near the outskirts of the camp, the best way for escape.

"I'll stand a little ways into the trees, then if you can't see me, I'll be off," Zealak replied, watching the quarter moon with her keen eyes. Slipping quietly amongst the trunks, the black squirrel stood, perfectly invisible on that night. As she stood there, she knew that now was the time to slip away, whether her accomplice could see her or not.

Ruual decided to make no reply, figuring that she would be off soon even if he could catch the glint of the strange coloured eyes. Sitting down in the dry, curling grass of the summer, the red squirrel decided to wait out the next few hours in the open. Sleeping up in one of the many trees like he and the others did, would be very nerve-wracking, since the scheme would constantly be on his mind.

'I wonder what the new land will be like when I get there...' he thought to himself as he gazed up at a thin blanket of stars visible in the clearing. They glimmered like tiny lanterns, leading anybeast ready to follow to unknown horizons. He was ready for it.

_oooooooooooooo_

Taking to the trees immeadiately sped the now invisible squirrelmaid on her way. The trees were shadowed, the moon was barely visible; the only thing that could give her away was any creature who had overheard their earlier conversation. And Zealak knew that no otherbeast had.

The trees passed her by in a blur, she would not, could not, be seen by anyone or anything. Secrecy was what was going to get her off of this island alive. It would bring Ruual too, if he didn't get found out, that is. She hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Although Zealak would never in her wildest imaginings consider the annoying red, common squirrel to be anything but her accomplice. She might go on to say that they were partners in escape, but friend? Never. But lately, the confounded creature had been growing on her mind. Would he get away as well? Would he make it to the sands in time? Would they survive the long journey ahead?

Still moving swiftly and stealthily, Zealak pushed these thoughts from her mind. That was not as important as her getting away. Not important, not important, not important. She forced herself to think no more of the matter. Such things popping into her head were, to put it mildly, random and annoying.

Focusing all her attention on the task before her, Zealak strained her muscles harder, knowing with each bound to the next tree she was closer to her freedom. The thought of having to keep up the fast pace all night, only to reach the sands, and wait for Ruual was unbearable. The white sands would easily show her black fur, and the thought of a dock and tavern close by was not a comforting one.

But, nonetheless, it was better that she would be facing a better life away from this island, with the worst behind her. Zealak only half believed it, but it was really all that she had. Soon enough though, she would be setting sail into the horizons of a new life, one with a good companion by her side, even if he had virtually nothing in common with her.

_oooooooooooooo_

'Yes,' he thought. "Revenge is sweet. And it will be even sweeter when they catch that squirrel and torture her near death. Zealak deserved it, nothing good ever came from a black squirrel. Perhaps, after I reveal the plot to vermin lord, I will own a piece of land, and overpower king Ashscruff. I will call myself 'Vontyr the Great', and none could harm me. Maybe a small shipment of slaves would with the land as a bonus.'

Vontyr was naive. Of course, the entire tribe was, unable to think for themselves and moving as a general whole was their life. Nothing else ever really happened. But, when he became king, that would all change.

He would build a great fortress, after he destroyed the vermin, right by the dock. The tavern would be eliminated, and all drinks would not leave the stone walls without some form of payment. He would be somewhat of a dictator, bending everything to his will. Maybe he could even establish an heir.

But, until he brought the message to the vermin lord, none of that would be possible. After hearing the brief conversation passed between the two squirrels, Vontyr had scrawled it down on a piece of parchment with a charcoal stick. It read:

_An escape of your first chosen slave has commenced. Get to squirrelmaid before dawn._

It was a short message, but any number of things could happen. He would gain the upper paw, demanding what was rightfully his. Or, so he thought it to be.

_ooooooooooooo_

The small unit of vermin had been sent over to the squirrel tribe for their planned raid. Every vermin carried weapons, though they looked defenseless at the time, for their blades were well-concealed.

A chocolate coloured rat who went by the name Grinscowl (true his facial features), led the party, a smug smile and a collasping blowpipe and darts his chosen weapons. His face was twisted and gave smile a vicious demeanor, adding to his cynical effect.

"'Ey, Grinscowl! There's sumthin' comin'!" a ferret near the back yelled, his quick eyes missed nothing, the reason he was chosen to go. Only the best and most experienced were permitted. If not, the raid party would be a seething mass of ranting bumpkins, arguing over everything and anything.

His eyes darted in the direction that the ferret had indicated, and he glimpsed a red wisp weaving between the trees and shrubbery. Raising his paw as a signal, any archers among the few set shafts to their strings and drew them tautly back, waiting for the next gesture. Dropping it swiftly, every creature who was not aiming ducked silently, arrows shooting past and over them like mad hornets.

A strangled yelp and a soft thump indicated that they had not missed their target. Making their way slowly to the spot, they found the squirrel, two shafts in one flank, clutching a parchment, his eyes beginning to dilate in fear.

"Don't kill me!" he sobbed brokenly, his plans of demanding for what was rightfully his forsaken.

"We won't. Jus' give us your little parchment there, treemouse," Grinscowl replied, holding out his clawed paw, like an adult asking a babe to hand over a toy.

Handing it over shakily, Vontyr watched fearfully as the archers trained their weapons on him. To his utter relief, after a shake of Grinscowl's head, they transferred their bows and arrows underneath their cloaks.

"If you tell any o' yourn about us, we'll find ye fer sure," Grinscowl threatened harshly.

"I promise! I won't tell a soul!" the squirrel wailed unhappily, as the vermin began to clear away. Racing into the forest, Vontyr glanced fearfully behind him, as he dashed into the unknown regions of the island in panic.

_oooooooooooooo_

Ruual decided that now was as good as any time to follow Zealak. He wouldn't get to the tavern until an hour or two after noon, if he started now, as the moon was just being to fade into the sky. It was still a few hours before he was supposed to leave, but he would be able to make it there in better time if he started now, just in case he might fall asleep later.

'If I start now, then I'll be the second creature to leave this island freely,' Ruual thought to himself, not knowing what was so close to him, ready to pillage and destroy.

_oooooooooooooo_

"Wha' d'we do now?" Scaleblade, a weasel, true to his name, with a snake skin bound hilt asked, as the squirrel bounded fearfully from them.

Scanning the scroll quickly, Grinscowl thrust it to another beast, one with a glass eye named Shockyin, who had learned his letters. "What can you make of this, Shockyin?" was all he said.

"Mmm... um... looks like da treemouse, der black 'un, 's escaped..." Shockyin replied after a while, squinting as he tried his level best to read the scrawled message, after all, vermin were rarely taught letters.

"What?! The Forest Ruler's soon-to-be master slave?" Grinscowl snarled.

"Uh... uhhh... it, kinda looks that way, don't it?" Shockyin answered stupidly. He could read, but he was unaware of the importance of one squirrel among hundreds.

"That means, that if'n we don't find that squirrel, he'll have every single one of us, every one of us, mind you, as 'is slaves! Or worse!" Grinscowl roared at the unfortunate stoat. A shudder passed through the group when the phrase "or worse" was spoken. They had seen the vicious effects of it and were not about to face it head on.

"So what should we do, Captain?"

Grinscowl looked thoughtful, stroking his axe hilt reflectively. "Scout around. See if'n ye can find that squirrel agin, then ask 'im about the other. Maybe 'e does know something, he just won't tell."

Three set out into the woodlands, blending with the trees in their stealth attire. They were the only few who had been able to pry the special garments off of the claws of other creatures, or even made them.

"Should we do anythin', Grinscowl?" Shockyin asked, rubbing at his glass eye annoyedly.

"Look around here. Don't wander far. Grab any food you can find. We camp 'ere until further notice," the brown rat let his tail curl about his hindpaws as he watched the others begin to forage.

No longer then an hour later, when everybeast was picking crumbs from their whiskers and sucking meat off of a few wood pigeon bones, the three returned, heavily burdened. Ruual was struggling furiously, desperation clear in his every jerky action.

"We... found this one..." an ermine began, keeping hold of the squirrel's footpaws, "slippin' round the trees... wand'rin' about like an idjit. Makin' enough noise fer... a deaf buzzard te hear."

Grinscowl nodded slowly, his eyes never straying from Ruual's face. After a pause, he spoke to the squirrel. "You know where that squirrel is, don't ye." It was more a statement than a question.

Staring defiantly up at his tormentor, Ruual set is jaw firmly, no expression emanated from him, save for his hate-filled eyes. Apparently, this was going to be a hard nut to crack, but Grinscowl wasn't worried.

"There's no point in hiding your squirrel friend. We know that she's escaped, and you're going to help us find her. So, for the sake of yer miserable life, tell us where the treemouse is!"

Ruual looked back with a flagging spirit. Some creature had overheard them, and now he would delay Zealak's escape even further if he did not do something. He couldn't possibly get out of this mess alive, and he wasn't about to try. He was tired and weaponless, a bad combination for any beast caught unawares.

"I- I'll tell you. The shore. By the tavern, she's looking for a boat to steal," Ruual cast his eyes down in defeat, and Grinscowl smirked in his strange manner.

"Good choice, squirrel. You know what would happen if you hadn't told us. You would 'ave probly delayed your friend's escapade further. Now, you won't have to. Take 'im to the Vale!"

_oooooooooooooo_

"So, Grinscowl. You're telling me that my prize slave has taken to the hills, or waves as it were, and this other squirrel knows where she's going?" the Forest Ruler asked for the umpteenth time in the past hour.

"Yes, my liege. He even told us where she'd be."

"Of course, I know that. The taverns. Where all the depressed beasts of these oceans come together to drown their sorrows in ale and grog. They sometimes stay there for days, with hangovers or skunk-drunk," the Forest Ruler nodded his head slowly at this news. "That means that if we can take one of the other boats out there, we'd be bound to catch up with a one crew vessel."

"But, my liege... what about the other squirrels? The other slaves?" Grinscowl's brow creased in worry. The Forest Ruler could be very headstrong at times, so he would have to approach the problem head-on, but with caution. How that was possible, one creature could only guess.

"Do you doubt my word, Grinscowl? Burn their trees to the ground, bring the survivors with us as oar slaves! Use what little brain you've got!" the Forest Ruler snarled, spittle flying as he vented his anger on the unfortunate captain.

Grinscowl stood in front of his king dumbly, figuring that a single move that he made (or didn't make) would set off the ruler's explosive temper.

"Well?! Get moving!"

The rat barely had enough time to rush from the tent before a half-filled wine bottle followed him out and whizzed past his head, exploding into thin pieces of glass on a nearby tree. Ignoring the pricks of the wine bottle, Grinscowl wasted no time in gathering up an assembly of raiders.

_oooooooooooooo_

King Ashscruff gazed at his forest kingdom. It was all he had ever wanted. Power over other creatures, to protect them from danger. But, as he grew older in years and bigger in stomach, his valiant dreams had vanished like the elusive tendrils of smoke on the wind.

'If only I could have listened to my own thoughts, instead of that stupid Vontyr's dreams of conquest and complete control. This isn't what I wanted, and I doubt I can change any of it now. If only-'

He was unable to finish his sentence, as a younger squirrel, not yet ready to join the battalion of fighters, rushed over to him, panting. He smelled like smoke, and parts of his fur were badly singed. "Sire, the trees! They're burning! Squirrels are dying or disappearing with screams out there!"

"What?! Who would do such a murderous thing?!" King Ashscruff roared. His voice was hoarse, he was so unused to yelling. Heaving his great bulk from the chair, he pulled out a sword, something he thought he would never have to use in his reign. Well, now the time had come.

"Bring to this mayhem, squire!" he yelled, seeing the smoke creeping through the boundaries of his kingdom. But the younger beast had already left in a panic. Shaking his head, the king closed his eyes, gathering his strength.

'You must protect them! Now is the time to redeem your promises!' he yelled to himself. He never spoke a single word as he burst out into a headlong dash, crashing through the trees, his sword upraised, hacking into the brush that he had not entered in years. Today may be his last day as king, but he would spend it the way he had always promised. Like a true king!

As the smoke began to obscure his vision, and he could no longer see where he had run to, a knife flashed down before his eyes, and he deflected the blow, but only once.

_oooooooooooooo_

Ruual had not shown up. He was due here more than two hours back. Zealak was getting worried. No creature could ever be that late accidently. What if he had been caught? Biting her lip in frustration, the black squirrel strode out to the shingle covered beach, casting nervous glances at the tavern.

It was a very well built establishment. Zealak had been there only once, and had found the smoke on the hearth and the breath of drunken creatures around her to be a very unpleasant one. She had even successfully ended a brawl (which she had been apart of, maybe even started), when a weasel had tried to kiss her (of course he was drunk, but he had it coming) while she had been sitting next to him quietly on one of the many stools against the table.

Scurrying along the beach in a crouched fashion, Zealak reached the dock, where all manner of boats were tied. From great slave-filled vessels to small skiffs filled with empty nets. She wanted something that would not be missed, but something fast. Then she saw it.

It was crafted in the way of most sea-faring vessels. A "U (-ish)" shaped bottom, encrusted with algae and barnacles. Appearances did not matter to her, and this one was definitely nothing to raise an eyebrow at. It was closer to shambles than most of the other vessels.

"Just go! He's too late. Maybe he'll survive another way," Zealak said aloud to herself, as she untied the rope keeping the skiff tied to the dock. It was now or never. Pushing off with an oar (two were located on the floor of the boat), Zealak looked back at her homeland as she pulled away into the deeper ocean water. Everything she had ever known was on that island, and she was leaving it all behind for a place she barely knew.

_To be continued..._

* * *

_oooooooooooooo_

_I was trying to get this as long as I could without making it too boring, because I wanted detail and more explanation/conversation to take place in this chapter. Hopefully, I succeeded in keeping you awake while you read my new chapter. _

_Anything you would like to know/point out/compliment on? Just review. I'll be hoping to get a healthy amount of critisism(?) when it is needed, just in case I made a plot hole, or I didn't explain something well enough, or I made a spelling mistake. _

_I hope that you liked this (longer) chapter of **"Life's Strange Roads"**, because I would love to continue it, but keep you entertained._

_Zealak Silverdirk_


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